Didn't Expect Tat
by MusicGirlie97
Summary: Sherlock and John come to Bart's to check on a body, and once again, Molly Hooper manages to surprise the both of them. Post TFP/Mary Didn't Die AU
1. Chapter 1

The squeak of men's designer loafer shoes echoes in the hallway as a tall and dark man walks to the morgue, a shorter, blonde man following after him.

"So, if she fought back and bit him, DNA will be in her teeth?" John asks as they came to a stop in front of the double doors. Sherlock sighs and grabs the handle to the one of the doors. "Yes, John, but the sooner we get the evidence, the sooner we get the culprit. Thankfully, Molly was in charge of the post mortem." Sherlock explains as he pulls open the door.

The smell of formaldehyde fumes hits John as they walked inside. He watches as Sherlock takes off his coat and scarf and flings them on top of a stool. John, though, keeps his jacket on. The one thing John will never figure out is how Sherlock can even stand the coldest and hottest of temperatures.

Sherlock sits down at a microscope, getting it ready to look at their evidence. He looks around to find Molly, but she was nowhere in sight. "Where is she?" he grumbles. Looking down at his watch to check the time, he wonders if she was still on her shift. His leg starts to twitch impatiently and taps his fingers on the table.

John opens his mouth to opt a suggestion, before he heard the doors open again. The two turn their heads to see the person they were looking.

Molly walks in with a clipboard in her hands, scribbling down something and mumbling to herself. She chewed on the end of her pen as John looks her over.

Surprisingly, her hair was down, cascading down into soft, cinnamon curls. She wasn't wearing her usual lab coat, but instead was wearing a low neck cream-colored jumper. She was also wearing baggy black trousers with light gray ballet flats, and a gold necklace with a red cherry charm shined around her neck.

"Ah, Molly! Great timing!"

Sherlock gets up from his seat and pushes pass John. John hides a smirk as Sherlock talks to Molly. After Sherriford, times had been troubling between him and Molly. They didn't speak for three months after what had been said.

It took the "gentle" persuasion of Mary Watson for them to talk it out. More times than one, John has learned to never piss off his wife. One of those times included when he heard about how she got the two of them to work out their problems.

The plan involved a threat to use John's gun to shoot Sherlock in a spot where only the most despicable men deserved to be shot if he didn't go down to Molly's flat and explain what happened on the island.

Now, the two were friends again. There was still an awkward tension in the air at times, but the two were still as close as ever.

And although Sherlock would never admit it, John can tell though that Sherlock was more than ecstatic to have Molly back in his life again. He still remembered the time when Sherlock stayed with him and Mary as 221B was being rebuild.

John would wake up in the middle of the night due to Rosie's crying, but he would see Sherlock already there to help her. He knew it was because Sherlock had already been up for the umpteenth night in a row, worrying about Molly.

And now that things fell back to normal, John was happy that his closest friends were able to make up.

"I need the body of Denise Fleckman. I need to check-"

"Her teeth? Already did it and found traces of skin embedded in her molars." Molly says as she walks to one of the lab tables. "I was about to run it, but if you want to look at it, here you go." She hands Sherlock a slide with pink flakes on it.

Sherlock lit up like a Christmas tree as she does so. "Ah, brilliant!" He grabs the slide and races to the microscope he set up. John smiles and turns to Molly. "Thanks a bunch, Molly. You just saved us a lot of time."

Molly smiles back and waves a dismissive hand as she blushes a bit. "It was no problem. Greg let me look over the case file, and I had a feeling that there could be something there. I could tell that Denise was a woman who wouldn't go down without a fight."

John chuckles. "That was exactly what Sherlock deduced about Denise too. Maybe you'll give him a run for his money." He jokes as he looks pointedly towards the man, who was actively turning the knobs of the microscope.

Molly giggles as she looks at Sherlock as well. "Maybe, I wonder if I'll be able to find myself a John to help me out." She pokes John in the stomach with affection, and John gives out another chuckle.

As John turns to Sherlock, Molly places her clipboard down on the table. "I just got back from lunch, so I'm going to work on my own assignments if you guys don't mind." She says as she starts to put her hair up in a messy bun. She pulls up a stool beside the two of them and sits down.

"No problem at all, Molls." John smiles.

Sherlock gives a grunt of approval at her. John rolls his eyes at him and slightly shakes his head. Made up with Molly or not, he's still an impossible man when he's on his cases. However, he has gotten better with treating her in the morgue.

About twelve minutes passed with Sherlock looking at the microscope, John watching over his shoulder, and Molly working on her own projects. John, getting bored with watching him, looks around the morgue silently before his eyes landed on Molly, who was stooped down over her paperwork.

John was really grateful that Molly was happy again. She was like a dear little sister to him. Witnessing that scene between her and Sherlock and watching her almost die made him see how lucky he and Sherlock were to have an incredible woman like her in their lives.

John's eyes flicked over her and suddenly, he noticed something was off.

He looked over Molly again. More specifically, he looked around her collarbone. He narrows his eyes at a small black mark that contracted with Molly's ivory skin. It was slightly hiding behind the collar of her jumper.

It looked like ink. What was that? He didn't notice that before.

"Hey, Molly," Molly looked up at John. "I think you accidentally marked yourself with a pen," he says gesturing to her skin.

Molly looked puzzled for a moment before her face suddenly caught on fire. "O-oh! T-That's not..um. It-" She looks down shyly and clears her throat.

John raises an eyebrow at her reaction and Sherlock lifts his head to look at her as well. Molly's face grows redder at their stares. She clears her throat again and rubs her neck.

"Ah, that's not a pen, I-I, um, I was feeling bold the other day with my friend, Meena, and we, uh, well, I…" John and Sherlock looked at each other before looking back at her.

"…I got a tattoo." She finished lamely, finding the surface of the table interesting all of a sudden.

One could hear a pin drop in the room, it was that silent. John was stunned while Sherlock sat there utterly frozen. "You…got a tattoo?" John said finally.

Molly nervously laughed. "It was stupid. We had a bit to drink, and Meena came up with the plan. Then all of a sudden, we're at the tattoo parlor. But she wimped out after I got mine because she was deathly afraid of the needles."

Molly sighed as she rolled her eyes. "How else did she expect for them to put it on her? Like mine was kissed on by puppies! I was so angry with her, but we're good now! I actually grew to like it!" She giggled.

John eventually let out a loud chuckle. "I'm absolutely gobsmacked, Molly! I didn't know you had it in you!" John looked to Sherlock to see if he agreed, but he just sat, still not moving.

John's smile went away at his silence, and he looked back at Molly.

"If you don't mind me asking, what did you get?"

Molly let out a nervous giggle before moving her jumper over to show the top of her collarbone.

Right there in on her skin was a delicate honeybee. It was slightly bigger than the size of a bottle cap. The tip of one of the wings was what John noticed earlier, and they were beautifully detailed with swirls of black and white ink. The bee's body was drawn with fuzzy elements and colored with black and pale-yellow stripes. A bit of black ivy was decorated under the stinger of the honeybee.

At the sight of the tattoo, Sherlock clenched the microscope's knobs. "Oh, it looks good!" John said. Molly pursed her lips. "It does?" she asked uncertainly.

"Of course, but why a honeybee?" John asked. Sherlock licks his lips as he kept his gaze on the tattoo, but the two didn't notice his actions. "I always liked bees. They're very important to our ecosystem, and I thought it would be a unique idea. Not a lot of people get bee tattoos."

"Well, I like it. What about you, Sherlock?" John elbowed Sherlock in the arm.

Sherlock clears his throat. "It looks…good. Very good." Suddenly, Sherlock pops up from his seat and grabs his things. "We need to get going, John. Thank you for the help, Molly." He gives her a strained smile before turning abruptly.

He races out of the morgue without looking back at either of them. John sighs and pinches the space between his eyes. "I'm sorry, Molly. You know how he is on cases," he smiles at her.

Molly simply shrugs, but John could tell she was a bit hurt from Sherlock. She moves the jumper back into place, and stands up. "I actually need to get my lab coat on, I have three more post mortems to do before my shift ends."

She gives a hug to John, who immediately hugs back. "I'll come by to see you and Mary soon. And I'm off tomorrow if you need me to watch Rosie for you!" She said happily.

"Oh, thanks, Molls! Mary and I would love a night out! Be careful getting home tonight, yeah?" John gives Molly a kiss on the cheek before walking towards the doors.

"Thank you, John! You and Sherlock be careful!"

John walks out of the morgue and hurriedly catches up to Sherlock.

"You know, you could have talk to her more than that!" He scolded Sherlock when he made it to his side.

"Yes, yes." He said absentmindedly as they walked out of Bart's. He lifted up a hand to call a cab, and when it came, he and John got in. Sherlock props his arm up on the window and looks out of it as the cab drives down the street, lost in thought.

"And why didn't you say more about her tattoo? She was nervous about it to begin with, and all you said was 'very good,' you could have said better than that crap!" John crosses his arms as he glares at Sherlock.

Sherlock doesn't say anything as he keeps his gaze on the road. John sighs. "Sherlock, if you don't want to go back to how it was after Sherriford, you need to say better compliments to Molly than that."

Sherlock finally looks at John. "Oh, I'll do more than that, John." He gives a smirk to John, but something was odd about it. John furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as he looks from side to side, speechlessly that he agreed with him so quickly.

"…Okay?"

John didn't raise the issue again. The two finished their case and Sherlock disappeared without another word to John. He probably feels bad about the interaction with Molly. Good, he should be. Without another thought, John just went home to Mary and Rosie, and he fondly told Mary about today's discovery and about Molly's offer to take Rosie for tomorrow night.

* * *

John walked into 221B the next morning, a baby carrier with little Rosie in tow. "Hello, Sherlock?" John called. No answer replied back.

John puts Rosie in his chair, and he affectionately smiles at her as she giggles up at him. "Daddy loves you too, Rose Bud." He kisses her on the head as she grabs the tip of his finger.

"Sherlock?" He calls again and looks into the kitchen. Sherlock wasn't there.

John looks down at Rosie. "Just wait here for a second, Rose Bud. Daddy will be right back." John walks in the kitchen and looks at Sherlock's bedroom door, which was closed.

Was he still in bed? It wasn't that late, but he was usually up by now. John feels a dread reminder of the last time Sherlock had his door closed. He slowly walks up to the door and grabs the doorknob.

"Sh-" John started as he opened the door, but every thought in his head came to a stop as his wide eyes took in the sight before him.

There, laying asleep underneath Sherlock, was a bare Molly Hooper. Her hair was spread across the pillows like a halo, and her sleeping face looked blissfully peaceful.

Sherlock, just as bare as Molly, softly slept with his head on Molly's collarbone, his lips centimeters away from her bee tattoo. Luckily, Sherlock's arm was modestly draped over her chest, so John didn't see anything that would make him never look Molly in the eye ever again. The sheets were crumpled around the couple, the duvet thrown to the floor, and their legs were entangled together as well as their fingers. Red and purple marks were peppered around Molly's neck, more so around her tattoo.

John looked around the room to notice that clothes were thrown at every corner of the room, and he slowly decide to descend from the room. But before he could, Sherlock stirred a bit, and he froze. Sherlock didn't wake, however, but instead he unconsciously pulled his hand from Molly's and embraced her tightly as he breathed in her scent. He placed a kiss on Molly's collarbone before giving out a small happy smile.

After Sherlock didn't move again, John left the room quietly as possible, tiptoed to pick up Rosie, and the father and daughter left the flat.

"Well, Rose Bud," John smiled as he shakes his head. "He wasn't kidding when he said he'll do more than say it." John chuckled before he called Mary to tell her the good news and let Molly off the hook for tonight.


	2. Chapter 2

As she sat on top of Sherlock's kitchen table, Molly stared down at the fresh cup of coffee in her hands, deep in her thoughts.

It was about ten in the morning, and she had just woken up from one of the best sleeps she'd had in long time, in the arms of the only man she would ever be in love with. But it was still felt too good to be true.

After she roused awake, she managed to carefully slip out from his arms without disturbing him, tucked her knickers and his shirt from last night on, and moved into the kitchen to clear her head.

Last night was…so wonderful. God, it was wonderful. And yet, why does she feel like it was a once in a lifetime kind of thing? She anxiously gripped the sides of her mug.

She closed her eyes and thought back to the strange events that led up to the night in question.

* * *

Finally. Molly thought as she put Mr. Doug Lorrie in the body drawer. I can get my things and then get home to a nice hot bath. After seven hours of leaning over dead bodies, she finished her last post mortem for the day. Paperwork be damned. She can do it first thing her next shift.

Molly stretched her arms over her head to relieve the tension in her back and shoulders as she headed to her office. A slight ache roared in her shoulder as she dropped her arms to her sides, and she rubbed it a bit to ease the pain.

As she does, her fingers brushed against the area of skin where her tattoo laid. The interaction today between Sherlock and John comes back in her mind. Molly frowns as she remembered Sherlock's words and disinterest in her bold decision.

'Good. Very good,' He said. She sighs and rubs her eyes.

She thought that he could be a bit more cordial after they've talked about the phone call. They don't speak for months and then he comes to explain his recently discovered sister, that bloody coffin, the horrible games that he, John and his brother went through to save people.

She thought…that he would see that she wouldn't let what happened stop them from being in each other's lives. That he would see that she wasn't going to stop being herself. That he would see that she was becoming bolder and more confident in her skills.

More importantly, she thought he would change in his behavior towards her, and it has tremendously. But she feels that Mary's almost death is most of the cause in that aspect.

Well, if he didn't like her tattoo, bollocks to him! She loved her little honeybee, and she wasn't going to let Sherlock Holmes rain on her parade again! Molly's thoughts broke as a wave of drowsiness hit her. A small yawn escaped her as she rubbed her eyes.

Ugh. Maybe I should skip the bath and go straight to bed.

Soon, Molly reached her office and unlocked the door with her key. Once she was in, she lets out a startled squeak at the ghostly figure on her desk. Her arm shoots out to turn on the lights, and there sat Sherlock Holmes with all his might and glory.

"Do stay quiet, Molly. It is much too late for such loud commotion."

"Jesus, Sherlock!" she scolded as she tried to calm her heart down. She glared at him as he stared back with a wide smirk.

"Do you just sit in the dark waiting? Because if you do, that's a bit creepy to some people, just gonna warn you." Molly states.

"But not you?"

She looks at him as she walks around her desk to put her lab coat on the coatrack and grabs her rain coat next to it.

"Since I know you, it's not creepy. More annoying than creepy."

He chuckles at her retort just as she grabs her bag and places it on her desk beside him.

"Now, what do you want? Did you find the guy that Denise bit?" She asks while mentally checking off everything she needed before leaving.

"Yes. Stupid man, didn't even give a valid excuse behind his poorly-dressed wounds." He rolls his eyes in annoyance.

Molly grunted in response as she grabs her phone charger, rolls it up, and puts it in a pocket on the side of her bag. "Probably hard to think up a lie about a bite wound a woman gave you while you're were murdering her." She jokes as she zips up her bag.

Slowly, Sherlock moves off her desk while Molly made sure she had everything she needed.

Once assured, she grabs her phone to look at the time. "Ah, shoot! Tube's done for the night, gotta grab a ca-" Suddenly, she was aware of a shadow that loomed over her.

She turns her head around to look up at Sherlock, who had slipped behind her when she was distracted. Her belly clenched at the smoldering look in his eyes.

"Y-yes?"

"Why not a flower?"

A beat passes, and Molly furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

"W-What?"

"Flowers, hearts, angels: the most common ideas of a tattoo design for women, but yet, you choose a honeybee. You could have even chosen a kitten or cherries if you wanted to, since you like to identify yourself as a cat lady or fruit-obsessed."

Molly steps back as he moves forward, the back of her knees hitting her desk.

"But still, you chosen a honeybee. Why?"

Molly blinks at his question before sighing at his dramatic manner.

"My tattoo? That's why you're here? You didn't seem that interested earlier ago." She rolls her eyes as she pushes on his chest, but he doesn't budge. She huffs and shakes her head.

"I told you. I like bees, they're good for the ecosystem. But also," she says as she reveals her tattoo again to him. She doesn't notice his breath hitch as she continues.

"They also symbolize hard work and cooperation. A honeybee would protect its home at the risk of its own life, it represents loyalty and courage. That's what I would do for everyone I care about." She smiles up at him. "It actually reminds of you in a way as well. Your home is your family, and you've risked your own life many times to help them." She laughs.

Sherlock doesn't say anything as he stares at her, his face unexpressive. Her smile melts away, and embarrassment heats up her cheeks.

"Look, I like my tattoo, not gonna apologize for getting it! So, can you please let me go home?"

Molly finally manages to push him back a little before turning around to grab her bag and fling it across her shoulder.

A weary sigh passes her lips. "I'm really tired and want to get h-" She stops and gasps when her arms were grabbed.

Suddenly, the next thing Molly knew, her back is slammed against her desk. She gapes up at Sherlock, who spreads her knees apart with his thigh, so he could stand between them. He holds Molly's wrists on each side of her face and stares down into her eyes.

Molly doesn't say anything as she stares back at him. Her chest rises up and down slowly, waiting to see what was going to happen.

After an extensive amount of deafening silence, Sherlock lets go of one of her wrists and puts his thumb on her bottom lip. He softly rubs it down as the tip grew wet. Molly's heart thumps faster as he brings it up to his own lips and licks it.

"S-sher-" Molly couldn't finished. She still couldn't fully comprehend about what was happening.

Sherlock brings his head down and kisses her cheek, and then draws kisses to the corner of her lips.

Molly stifles a moan as his other hand lets go of her other wrist. With a slow agonizing pace, the hand caresses down her arm to her hip. Sherlock doesn't kiss her just yet. He wasn't rushing his actions; instead, he started to lay slow open-mouthed kisses on her delicate neck.

"Sherlock." Molly meant for it to come out as a firm warning, but it came out breathless and wanting.

Sherlock growls as he grips her hips and pulls away from her neck. Finally, his lips smashed against her, and it was the most intense kiss she had ever had in her life.

It was hot, messy, and primal. He kissed with so much passion that she only saw in his most difficult cases. His tongue forces her lips to part, and it slips in her mouth to tangle with hers.

God, it feels like her insides were on fire. She moves her arm around him and clenches onto his back. His muscles were so broad and hard underneath her fingertips. Her legs subconsciously wrap around his waist as her hands eventually moved up to grip the sides of his head.

After kissing for what seemed like forever, each of them pulls away panting. A thin strand of saliva connects their lips as the couple gaze at each other.

Molly's eyes widen as she realized what just happened.

She opens her mouth to speak, but Sherlock stops her by pulling down her jumper's collar and biting down on her tattoo. She gasps as he licks and sucks the skin until a purple blotch begins to form.

Sherlock stands up to look down at her. She looks up with wide brown eyes. Her bee-stung lips puffed out hefty pants, and her small hand moves to gently touch her skin he just suckled.

"Baker Street. NOW." Her insides boiled as his demand comes out husky and deep.

He lifts her up from her desk, grabs her bag, and drags her to the door.

"My-my key…" She whimpers as they get into the hallway.

Sherlock doesn't reply. He only fishes her key out of her bag and locks the door. After that, he puts the key back and spins around to kiss her again. He does it so quick that Molly didn't have time to respond back.

He starts to pull her towards the lift with an impatient huff. Once there, he pushes the button, and drags her inside the lift with him as it arrives.

He pushes her against the wall, her back to his front. Molly gasps as he rubs himself against her lower half. Christ, he was so hard. "Sherlock…" Molly starts.

"I would do it here, but I want you in my bed. All to myself." He whispers in her ear.

Molly swallows as she grew silent. Sherlock continues to assault her neck with his mouth before the doors opened again. He grabs her hand, and they raced out of Bart's as quickly as possible before hailing a cab. They snogged all the way to his flat, and once there, they managed to finish what was started.

* * *

Molly opens her eyes when she hears a pair of bare feet thumps closer to the kitchen. She turns around to see Sherlock clad in only a pair of skin-tight black boxers. He yawns as he scratches the back of his head.

His gaze falls on her as she stares at him, and his face breaks out in a smile.

"Good morning." His sly voice rumbles. She swallows and returns back with a small smile.

"Morning."

Sherlock walks over to her and softly grabs her chin to look into her eyes.

"That's my shirt you're wearing, young lady." He pecks her on the lips but didn't move back far as he smirks at her. "But I will say you look absolutely erotic in it."

"It's big and comfy." She replies dazed from his kiss.

He chuckles as he places another kiss on her lips, this time longer and deeper.

About ten seconds go by before they pull apart. Sherlock runs his fingers over her neck as he looks over her. He grips the side of her neck gently and brings his mouth to her ear.

"You also weren't next to me in bed. I was looking forward to taking you again in the sunlight. That way I can see your face better as you come." His velvet-like voice growled in her ear before he bits her lobe.

Molly shivers at his tone and the way his teeth feel on her ear. But the pit of uncertainty grows bigger.

"So, it wasn't just the one night?" She sounded so lost and frightened.

Sherlock stops his acts on her ear and pulls back. His face eased into a benevolent expression as his hand lightly caresses her cheek.

"Do you want it to be?" He sounded empathetic.

"It's just…" Molly grabs his wrist and brushed her thumb back and forth. "Where did this come from? I never really thought about it last night."

Sherlock snorts. "You had other things on your mind at the moment, Molly." His eyebrows wiggled as he smirks at her red face.

She lightly slaps him on the chest as he chuckles. "Seriously?"

He smiles again before a serious look came across his face. "We discussed the phone call and said we would still be friends. I understood that." He places his forehead on hers but doesn't met her eyes.

"But how you still see me even when I have caused so much pain that day, caused pain for so much people." He closes his eyes. Molly puts her hands on his cheek and brushes her thumbs under his eyes.

"Mary almost dying wasn't your fault, you know." Sherlock tenses but relaxes when she starts to run her hand through his curls.

"She wanted to protect you, and it took time for John to see that. However," She gripped his curls with a firm grasp, and he opens his eyes. "If you throw yourself off the deep end again with drugs, then you can forget this and last night."

Sherlock gulps softly and nods his head. Molly sighs as she looks down.

"Sickeningly, that was another way that you would risk your life to save your home, your family." She smiles sadly as her eye started to prickle with unshed tears. He kissed her softly before he continued his talk.

"When we didn't talk for months, I was terrified that I had finally drove you away. I didn't think we would talk again." He looks over her face as if he was seeing her face for the last time. "You are everything to me, Molly. It was hell knowing I might have never have you in my life again."

Sherlock brings her hand up to his mouth and kisses her knuckles to the palm of her hand. Molly's heart warmed more as she tearfully smiles.

"That day, I meant it the way you did. I just thought I lost my chances from that day until last night when you looked at me with those eyes," He brushes his fingers under her eyes and smiles. "And explained what you thought of me…I love you, Molly Hooper."

Molly closes her eyes to keep her tears from falling as they embraced. They softly swayed back and forth before Molly spoke.

"I love you too, Sherlock."

Sherlock kisses the side of her head before nuzzling his face against her hair. Molly laughs as he tightens his arms around her waist.

"Maybe I should have gotten a tattoo years ago, since now I know they drive you horny." She feebly jokes.

"It's you who drives me horny, but how you never knew about my interest in bees and apiculture surprises me."

"Ah, so that's why you were so nosy! I just thought you like the idea of inked skin." Sherlock pulls back to look at her.

"Again, I like the idea of your inked skin. A tattoo is a very mischievous decision, Dr. Hooper," he purrs as he squeezes her hip.

She lets out a squeak. "I told you that I was feeling bold! And I have a meaning behind it, it's not like I just got it!" She squeals as he picks her up bridal style from the table. Molly giggles as Sherlock hurries back to the bedroom.

"Yes, well, let me show you again how much I appreciate your meaning."


End file.
